holly jolly holiday help

I'm taking a small vacation from the blogging world to celebrate the Thanksgiving holiday with my family. I'll be back with a thrilling (because I know you expect nothing less, right?) report of our celebrations in a few days. In the meantime, though, I was hoping that you, my tasteful readers, could help me with something.

I can't find my Christmas CD's (I know they're around here somewhere...), but even so, since my collection of Christmas music is not especially spectacular, and because our budget just isn't Santa-fat-and-jolly, I thought that this year I'd enhance my holiday listening with a YouTube playlist. My list so far, though varied in style, is meager at best:

1. God Rest Ye Merry, Gentlemen by Barenaked Ladies and Sarah McLachlan
2. The Wexford Carol by Alison Krauss and Yo-Yo Ma (So beautiful! Seriously, click on that one and listen to it.)
3. Carol of the Bells by Trans Siberian Orchestra with Metallica.
4. Walking in the Air from The Snowman

Do you have any suggestions of what I should add? The only rule is that I must be able to find a version of the song on YouTube. So, tell me: what Christmas songs are you loving this year?

for my linguist friends

I saw this cartoon in the New Yorker a while back and have been meaning to share it with you. Maybe I'm a nerd, but I think it's hilarious.

my boys

And their tongues:


***

I think Garrett is experiencing a growth spurt. What proofs support my theory? Well...

1. He is constantly hungry, and, as such, eats the day away. Snacks these days are more like meals and meals are more like fantastic holiday feasts.
2. He's been sleeping in lately. We're talking sometimes up to TWO extra hours of sleep in the mornings. (It's too bad this is something I shouldn't get used to...)
3. Where he used to just skim underneath the kitchen table, he now bumps into it, leading me to believe he's growing taller. Apparently growing pains are literal.

hoosier chili

If I learned anything from my time living in Indiana it is this:

1. Hoosiers can make a mean chili, and
2. They love said chili served with noodles.

Sometimes I find myself homesick for the flat farmlands and down-to-earth people in Indiana, so I got excited when I recently stumbled across a recipe for Hoosier Chili in my David Letterman cookbook. Yesterday, with temperatures in the 30s and a wind chill on top of that, was a perfect day for chili, so I pulled out the stock pot, simmered the ingredients, and put an incredibly delicious dinner on the table.

Hoosier Chili
2 lbs extra-lean ground beef
2 cups chopped onion
3/4 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup chopped green bell pepper
3 garlic cloves, minced
1 tsp salt
1/4 tsp black pepper
1 tbsp brown sugar
3 tbsp chili powder, or to taste
2 16-oz cans stewed tomatoes
1 46-oz can tomato or V8 vegetable juice
1 can beef broth
1/2 cup uncooked elbow macaroni (I used closer to 1 cup)
1 15-oz can kidney beans, rinsed and drained

In large Dutch oven or soup kettle, brown beef until no longer pink. (Drain, if necessary.) Add onions, celery, peppers, and garlic. Continue cooking until vegetables are tender. Add all remaining ingredients except macaroni and beans. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat, cover, simmer for 1 1/2 hours, adding macaroni for last half hour of cooking time. Stir in beans and heat through.

Yields: Enough for a small army. (Consider yourselves warned.)
Is Even Tastier Served with: Sweet Cornbread

Seriously, this is the best chili, hands down, that I have ever eaten. (Sorry, Mom.)

***

But speaking of moms, specifically mine and Blake's. And our dads, too. Today they are celebrating their 29th (mine) and 30th (his) wedding anniversaries. (The fact that our parents were married on the same day just one year apart is only the first of many strange coincidences realized upon our union, among which also include the facts that Blake and I are both the oldest and, for almost every sibling we have, the other has one very close in age. Bizarre and oddly fascinating. But anyway...)

Happy anniversary to Dave & Nancy and Gary & Joyce!

the great bridge

Author and historian David McCullough has swept me off my feet again, this time with The Great Bridge: The Epic Story of the Building of the Brooklyn Bridge.

photo credit: the Internet

It is the story of progress, a peek into the mid-19th century growth of New York and Brooklyn. It is the story of the Gilded Age and the crooked politics that often reigned supreme. It is an instruction manual detailing theories and practices in engineering. It is the history of hard work, integrity in the face of greed, physical and mental anguish and devotion, and the instinctive genius of a man named Washington Roebling. But first and foremost, it is the story of the building of the great Brooklyn Bridge.

photo credit: the Internet

"Even before the bridge was opened it had become a symbol of something impossible to define that made New York different from every other city on earth. [...] On the one hand it was a vaulting avenue over the river, defying space and gravity like some weightless natural phenomenon ('...high over all the Great Bridge swept across the sky,' a novelist would write), but it was also fixed, deep-rooted. It was as though the two cities might drift apart were the bridge not there. The bridge kept things in place. It belonged."
--David McCullough

A few factoids about the Brooklyn Bridge:

• The bridge was designed by John A. Roebling, but, upon his death a few months before bridge construction began, was overseen by his son, Washington A. Roebling, the great Chief Engineer.
• It was the largest suspension bridge project ever attempted up to this time.
  
• It was begun in 1869 and took fourteen continuous (and long) years to build at a cost of $15 million.
• The caissons, used to form the foundations of the towers, rest beneath the East River on bedrock.
• The roadway over the river is supported by four enormous cables, along with supporting diagonal wire stays.
• Washington Roebling succumbed to the caisson sickness (also known as the bends) a few years into the project and became so crippled, he had to manage the remainder of the construction off-site. While he was still able to provide the brains behind the project, his devoted wife, Emily, provided the footwork, working closely with his assistants as a liaison.
  

photo credit: yours truly

"[...] Possibly its enduring appeal may rest on its physical solidity and permanence, the very reverse of rootlessness. It says, perhaps, as does nothing else built by Americans before or since, that we had come to stay."
--David McCullough

I was so emotionally wrapped up in the story of the building of this magnificent bridge that by the epilogue I was weepy (which, I suppose, is to be expected from me, considering that I am someone pre-disposed to tears). As soon as these blustery November wind gusts die down a little, I'd like to go back for another walk across the bridge. For those of you who will be joining me sometime in the future for a stroll along its pedestrian walkway, please know that, thanks to my reading of this fabulous book, your tour will be both historically and technically educational.

photo credit: my talented sister, Katie

"It was a place to go on stifling summer evenings, to take some exercise to and from work, to walk the baby, to watch the gulls, to find relief from the city. Its promenade was and would remain one of the most exhilarating walks on the continent. To be on the promenade of the Brooklyn Bridge on a fine day, about halfway between the two towers, looking over the harbor and the city skyline, was to be at one of the two or three most soul-stirring spots in America, like standing at the rim of the Grand Canyon."
--David McCullough

illustration credit: the Internet

"...The impression upon the visitor is one of astonishment that grows with every visit. No one who has been upon it can ever forget it."
- Seth Low, mayor of Brooklyn, 1883

mitten weather

Thumbs in the thumb place,

Fingers all together.
This is the song
We sing in mitten weather!

Though it's gotten drastically colder here in the last few days, I wouldn't exactly call it "mitten weather" as there is no snow on the ground. Not yet, anyway. But it's certainly not too early to pull out the winter gear which, because the novelty has not yet worn off, is still pretty entertaining.

bye-bye bottles

Last week I put away all of Garrett's bottles. As soon as I accepted the fact that toddlers just don't drink as much as babies, I realized that he was transitioning to a cup just fine. He drank his milk out of his sippy cups at breakfast, lunch, and dinner, and he did so like a champion. But even so, I held onto the bedtime bottle for longer than I probably needed to. I enjoyed too much the evening cuddling on the couch that came as part of the bedtime bottle package, and I knew that as soon as the bottle was gone, the snuggling would go, too.

I think -- no, I know -- that it was harder to wean myself from the bedtime bottle than it was for Garrett. He didn't care one way or the other how he got his milk, so long as he got it, and he actually seems to prefer the independence drinking from a cup affords him. No more sitting in Mama's lap for his final sips. Instead he now enjoys wandering around the apartment, taking his milk in leisurely chugs as he explores this and that.

It's the end of an era, and it's been bittersweet for me. We really no longer have a baby living under our roof: we traded him in for a toddler.

called to serve

A few weeks ago the bishop sat me down and asked me to serve in our ward as the Primary President. I accepted the calling and yesterday, along with my counselors, secretary, and replacement nursery leaders, was sustained.

While I feel privileged to be able to work with the children in my ward, this isn't the sort of calling where a congratulations is in order. I am excited, yes, but it's already come at a small price in the form of my first teary breakdown two weeks ago. I will, however, be working with an excellent group of women, who I believe will do well at supporting me and each other, and for that I am immensely grateful.

Yesterday my time was divided between three places: nursery, where I passed the torch onto the new leaders; primary, where I tried to get a feel for how that organization runs; and, because Blake still hadn't returned yet from his trip, the hallway, where I wrestled with my overtired little boy. It was a little crazy, and the first big hurdle I needed to get over, and now that it's passed, I'm feeling much better. The bishop and one of his counselors were kind enough to accommodate my wish to let Blake be a part of my setting apart and so postponed that blessing until last night. I now feel strengthened and ready to move forward. Soon I will meet with the former president, and then, after that, with my presidency, the combination of which, I think, will add a little more to my confidence.

I did notice yesterday, though, that I have a small issue I will need to overcome. I'm not sure what it is, but there is something about children singing Primary songs that chokes me up. I couldn't make it though Singing Time without tearing up a little. Aside from the fact that it's slightly embarrassing, I suppose that all told, it's not such a bad thing. At least I know the Spirit will be strongly felt each Sunday.

making the most of the metrocard

An MTA MetroCard is our ticket out of our neighborhood. Because Blake commutes on a daily basis up into Manhattan, he purchases a monthly unlimited card pre-tax through his job. I, on the other hand, don't travel longer distances often enough to warrant the price tag of an unlimited use card so I instead use a pay-per-ride MetroCard. A one-way subway or bus ride (including any transfers within the required parameters) costs $2, which can add up quickly. If I plan to take a week-day trip around the city with an itinerary that is longer than simply "there and back," Blake and I will switch cards so that I can make good use of his unlimited pass while he sits at his desk all day. Since Blake's MetroCard wouldn't do him a lick of good during his business trip to Seattle, he kindly left it with me, and over the past few days I've been putting it to excellent use. Here is where the MetroCard has taken Garrett and I:

So Long, Farewell. On Thursday we donned our rain gear and trekked to our pre-determined meeting spot at Union Square to spend Blake's lunch hour with him before he left for the airport. The drizzle prevented us from doing much outside, so we wandered through nearby Babies R Us. Neither of us usually takes much pleasure in a trip to this store, but Thursday's visit was surprisingly relaxing. We let Garrett stretch his legs outside of the stroller and he did an excellent job of keeping us on our feet as we chased him in and out of the aisles.

Need a Trim? The lunch hour over, and the rain still coming down, we kissed Blake goodbye and headed back underground. This time our destination was M&J Trimming, a specialty shop on 6th Avenue near Herald Square. Even if you're not nimble with a needle and thread, the sight of miles of ribbons, lace, and other fabic trimmings for sale in this shop is something to behold. Selections are stacked from floor to ceiling and range in price from reasonable to outlandish. And the buttons -- oh the buttons. I don't know what I'd do with them all, but that didn't keep me from wanting buy up a supply. I did make a small purchase, however, and if all goes according to plan, a few people on our Christmas list will be getting homemade gifts with the M&J Trimming label.

Quintessence. On Friday morning we went back into the city, this time on a photographic errand for my sister-in-law's mother at Quintessentials, a fun little kitchen and bathroom design store on the Upper West Side. Because a trip to this part of Manhattan takes a good hour to reach from our home in Brooklyn, I don't find myself up there too often. But let me tell you, if all of my trips to the Upper West Side went as smoothly as they did for me yesterday, I'd go there everyday. With trains waiting for me at the platform for every transfer, and a little boy who slept the whole way there and happily ate his lunch the whole way back, I couldn't have asked for a better ride.

In Good Company. We didn't go straight home after our morning on the Upper West Side, but we did go back to Brooklyn. Our next stop was the home of my friend, Emily, who needed some post-partum companionship. I can't profess to know much about nursing, which her newborn daughter, Elizabeth, has been struggling a little to fully master, but I do have two extra hands, which seemed to make Emily's day go a little better. Added benefit for me was that I got to spend a potentially lonely day with a friend. Win-win all around.

Out-of-the-Housework. Today dawned wet and rainy (again), but that didn't keep me from putting that MetroCard to work to take care of a bit of business. Garrett and I boarded the subway and headed to Atlantic Terminal to pick up a few things at Target and Office Max. We got caught in a downpour as we came above ground, but with raincoats and a stroller cover, we were prepared. Next stop was to Three Guys for next week's supply of produce (mostly apples, since Garrett has decided that chunks of peeled apples are the greatest things since sliced bread and, as such, as been eating his way through our supply). And then, a few heavy trips up and down subway stairs later, we were home again, a little worn out and wet, but no worse for the wear.

Tomorrow we'll take that trusty MetroCard on the bus to get to church, and a few hours after we wrap up our worship there, Blake will arrive back home. I'll have to give him back his unlimited MetroCard and return to using my pay-per-ride one, but you know? I don't mind. After all the traveling around Garrett and I have done these last few days, I'm ready (and deserve) to put my feet up.

reflecting friend

There he was, he and his Fisher-Price corn popper just minding their own business, when a new friend reflecting back from the TV screen wanted to say hello. Being the friendly and polite little boy he is, Garrett said hello back.

at home in the neighborhood: the library

One thing that has saved me time and again is my easy access to our neighborhood branch of the Brooklyn Public Library. Only 9 blocks away, it is a pleasant walk to get there, so we go often. The building is small, as is the immediately available collection, but it has proved to be a safe haven for me on multiple occasions.

One of the first things I did after moving here was apply for my very own Brooklyn Library card, and since then it has been an uncommon thing for me to not have something checked out. With it I have access to books, music, and movies from this library system's collection, as well as those in the Queens and New York collections. I've never had a need to use it yet, but an inter-library loan is also available, which would connect me to various libraries across the country. If my branch doesn't have on its shelves a title I'm wanting, it's most likely that one of the other 59 branches does. To check it out, all I have to do is request it and, after a couple of days, it will be delivered to the branch location of my choice, ready and waiting for me to pick up.

I can also check out toys and games, for use upstairs in the Children's Department, for Garrett to play with. We held our ward's playgroup in the adjoining Toddler Room on numerous occasions last winter when it was too cold to go to a park. As the days have once again grown chilly, my friend and I have lately also taken advantage of this free space, its shelves lined with board books, on cold, gloomy days when our children need a warm place to stretch out and play.

Today Garrett and I attended our first official Story Time at our branch. It was great -- perfectly geared for toddlers with curious minds, minimal attention spans, and wandering legs. The Brooklyn Public Library has a pretty awesome Story Time program. When you first sign up, you're given a free book, and for every third time you attend after that, you receive more free books. I helped Garrett pick out one of my favorites: The Snowy Day by Brooklyn-born author Ezra Jack Keats. We'll read it together later, after he wakes up from his nap.

A public library is a constant in every community I've lived in, and aside from being the largest system I've had access to, the Brooklyn Public Library is set up in basically the same way as any other. But the Brooklyn Library has a certain charm attached to it that the others didn't have. Perhaps it has something to with the fact that Francie Nolan's library was in Brooklyn, "a little shabby old place [she] thought was beautiful." There's nothing spectacular about my neighborhood library branch, but I, too, find it beautiful.

going to the dogs

After a long, restless night, Garrett woke up this morning drool-faced and snot-nosed. I think he's teething again, thus bringing his defenses down and making him susceptible to obnoxious little viruses. We have been lucky: in his short life, Garrett has not been sick very often. Though when he is, he is always simultaneously sprouting new teeth, so it ends up being a double whammy. The other day his top two canine teeth made their sharp, pointed appearance, and the two on the bottom look as if they'll show up at any moment. And this round I feel like the whammy's been tripled, what with the pain (and consequent squirming and screaming) induced when I wipe his nose, thanks to the cuts inside his upper lip and along his upper gum from his recent trips and falls.

The current state of Garrett's health, in combination with the yucky, rainy weather predicted for the end of the week, puts a damper on my plans to romp around the city with him while Blake is out of town on business. We were going to check out the Asian shopping mecca Pearl River Mart and M&J Trimming, which apparently has a mind-boggling assortment of trimming paraphernalia like buttons, beading, and ribbons. I'd also hoped to catch sight of the autumn views of Central Park from the 7th floor windows at Bergdorf Goodman. And, of course, I'd like to spend time with Emily and Elizabeth. Maybe all of this will still happen. Maybe Garrett's drippy nose will dry up, and maybe I will feel up to braving wet city sidewalks. The week is young yet.

I suppose that since it's nearly lunch time, I ought to go get Garrett dressed. I am normally not this lazy about getting him out of his pajamas, but he has spent so much time this morning lounging around, both in and out of his crib, and not feeling well, that I haven't seen much need to rush him into play clothes. However, perhaps in honor of the appearance of his canine teeth, I'll put on his new "Old Dogbreath" shirt that I picked up dirt cheap at our neighborhood discount department store, Century 21. It might still be a little big on him, but the occasion, at least, seems fitting.

blog oscar night

I feel like it's my night at the Oscars. First MommyofThree stamps my blog as "Excellent." And now MommyJ tells me that she loves my blog:

Thank you! I'd make an acceptance speech, but I'm at a loss for words. (Also, I'm not wearing a form-fitting sequined gown, which somehow seems necessary for moments like this.) I am very flattered, though, and wish, in my gratitude, to pass the love on again. This time I'd like to award Celia Marie at Comings and Goings. I've been reading her blog for ages now, and, though I've never met her in real life, I've long enjoyed her thoughts on a variety of topics. Add to that the fact that she's an excellent cook AND has an adorable little boy just a few months younger than Garrett, and you've got a blog I love reading.

sunday feast

I whipped up a feast yesterday: chicken salad served on homemade rolls with rice pilaf and fresh pineapple. I'm happy to say that, for the most part, it turned out great. The only major problem was that I accidentally whipped up way too much. Happily, though, that was easily solved with the invitation of some friends who were willing to come over at almost the last minute to help us eat it.

The was my first attempt at homemade rolls. I recently found a recipe for frozen dinner rolls (much likes the Rhodes variety) that I wanted to try. Last Thursday, I made the dough and froze it. They didn't turn out very pretty looking, and they were a lot smaller than I'd anticipated, but they tasted great, which I guess in the end is what really matters.

The chicken salad was fantastic! Sweet and tangy and delicious. This one is definitely getting filed away in my recipe box with an A+ grade. To make the preparation easier and cheaper, I buy chicken breast on the bone, boil it to cook it ahead of time, and freeze it in portions for later use. (If you want to try this, just let the chicken sit in the boiling water for about 1 hour; when done, separate meat from skin and bones, portion out, and freeze for up to one month.) I didn't have slivered almonds or pimiento, so I didn't include any, and, in my opinion, it tasted perfectly fine. Oh, and do note that one batch makes quite a bit, and a doubled batch requires last minute dinner guests.

I cheated with the rice pilaf and pulled out a box of Rice-a-Roni. About a week ago, though, I made some from scratch and it was pretty tasty. I'll include that recipe here. The pineapple, though, was as fresh as can be. I picked one up cheap cheap the other day at 3 Guys and I'm glad I did. Garrett loves pineapple, so I love giving it to him.

So anyway, those are my notes, and here are my recipes. Do enjoy!

Frozen Dinner Rolls
5 1/2 to 6 1/2 cups unsifted flour
1/2 cup sugar
1 1/2 tsp salt
2 pkgs Fleischmann's Active Dry Yeast
1 1/4 cups water
1/2 cup milk
1/3 cup margarine
2 eggs (at room temperature)

In a large bowl thoroughly mix 2 cups flour, sugar, salt, and undissolved yeast.

Combine water, milk, and margarine in a saucepan. Heat over low heat until liquids are very warm. Margarine does not need to melt. Gradually add to dry ingredients and beat 2 minutes at medium speed of electric mixer, scraping bowl occasionally. Add eggs and 1/2 cup flour. Beat at high speed 2 minutes, scraping bowl occasionally. Stir in enough additional flour to make a soft dough. Turn out onto lightly floured board; knead until smooth and elastic, about 8-10 minutes. Cover with plastic wrap, then a towl, let rest 20 minutes.

Punch dough down. Shape into desired shapes for dinner rolls. Place on greased baking sheets. Cover with plastic wrap and foil, sealing well. Freeze until firm. Transfer to plastic bags. Freeze up to 4 weeks.

Remove from freezer; place on greased baking sheets. Cover; let rise in warm place, free from draft, until doubled in bulk, about 1 1/2 hours. Bake at 350 for 15-20 minutes, or until golden brown and done. Remove from baking sheets and cool on wire racks.

Note: These can be baked immediately, if desired

Chicken Salad Supreme
3/4 cup mayonnaise
3 tbsp Dijon mustard
2 cups cooked chicken, cubed
2 tbsp each, chopped pimiento and pickle relish
3/4 cup chopped celery
1/2 cup slivered toasted almonds
2 hard-cooked eggs, diced
1 tbsp minced onion

Combine mayonnaise and mustard. Toss dressing lightly with remaining ingredients. Chill. Serve on bread, rolls, or a bed of greens.

Rice Pilaf
1/2 cup fine noodles, broken in pieces (I used thin spaghetti)
2 tbsp butter or margarine
1 can beef broth
1/3 cup water
1/2 cup raw long grain rice

In saucepan, brown noodles in butter; stir often. Add remaining ingredients. Bring to a boil; reduce heat. Cover; simmer 20-25 minutes, or until liquid is absorbed.

Pineapple
Nothing to cook, obviously, but here's a video on how to cut one.

brooklyn botanic garden

Today's forecasted rain wasn't supposed to arrive until the early afternoon, so we took advantage of a comfortably cloudy morning to visit the Brooklyn Botanic Garden. As I suspected, colorful fall foliage abounded. Because, however, of blustery, rainy weather over the course of the last few days, it wasn't as brilliant as I'd hoped, but it was beautiful nonetheless. Here is a glimpse of what we saw:



We let Garrett explore most of the gardens on his own two feet. He did great walking and sometimes, even, great running. He liked seeing just how far away from us he could get before we'd notice, and crunching through the leaves only added to the fun. At one point, he spotted a little girl, two months older than him, enjoying a walk with her dad. Excited to find a friend, he ran up to her, and before too long, the two of them were sharing (her) and throwing (him) leaves, having a grand old time.



I've decided that I'd like to come back to the Botanic Garden at least four times a year, to see how the grounds change seasonally. Blake would like to come back to ogle the bonsai trees, which have become his latest obsession. Either way, the next time we come back, I'd love it if we passed the same old man in the subway terminal playing jubilant Christian music ("This Little Light of Mine") on the musical saw. A little eerie perhaps, but it made my day.

religious rice

A while back, while browsing through a cookbook, I came across a term that puzzled me:

"Blake, what's converted rice?" I asked.

Waxing characteristically philosophical, Blake responded, "Well, if you put the rice in the water and submerge it -- baptize it, if you will -- it comes back out of the water converted. Duh."

Right.*



*If any of you can enlighten me on what exactly converted rice is, please...I'm still curious.

excellent

Someone likes my blog:


Thanks, Mommy of Three! I'm flattered!

In the spirit of sharing the love, I'd like to pass the award onto one of my favorite bloggers: MommyJ. She and I have never met, but I like to think that we're kindred spirits just the same.

have a nice trip, we'll see you next fall

Garrett keeps tripping.

And falling.

And sending his lower teeth shooting through his upper lip, resulting in pools of blood dripping from his mouth.

Oh, the hazards of walking. The inside of Garrett's upper lip suddenly looks like a battlefield. It's gross. And it has the habit of sending me into a state of panic.

His first bloody mishap occurred on Monday. I heard him trip and fall, which is a very normal thing for him to do these days. Only this time, he cried harder. When I went to comfort him, I realized that, judging by the amounts of blood pooling around his mouth, this was no ordinary fall.

For a moment, I completely lost my senses. How in the world was I supposed to control the bleeding of a mouth wound? And on a squirmy one-year-old?! When I came to, I grabbed a damp paper towel and shoved it in his mouth, thus engaging in a physical battle to determine how long I could keep it there. The blood kept coming; I started envisioning stitches. In my panic, I called Blake, knowing full well that, from his office desk, he could do nothing more than give me words of reassurance and perhaps a little guidance. At about the same time he picked up the phone, the bleeding in Garrett's mouth began to subside and his happy personality rose to the surface. I gave him some Tylenol and sent him back to play, crossing my fingers that this would never happen again.

Never say never, the experts like to say. Because then Wednesday comes, with another bloody fall, only this time it's worse. More tears, more blood, and, when I'm finally able to examine the wound, more panic. Stitches this time? I don't know. I call my mom, knowing full well that, from her home 2,200 miles away, she could do nothing more than give me words of reassurance and perhaps a little guidance. I listened as she told me things I already knew, but desperately wanted to hear anyway. As she talked, the bleeding in Garrett's mouth finally subsided and, relieved, I let him go back and play.

There's a lot about Brooklyn that used to scare me but doesn't anymore. Knowing what to do if my child is involved in some sort of emergency situation is not on that list. If, say, he needed stitches, could his doctor down the block take care of it? Would I need to find an urgent care facility or, worse yet, take him to a hospital ER? Not having a car only complicates things. A cut requiring a few stitches doesn't seem to be ambulance-worthy, but I don't feel comfortable taking a bleeding child for a ride on the bus or subway. There are car service options, but I hear rumors that liability might prevent them from giving ER drop offs.

Look at me -- my nerves are wracked, and for no pressing reason. Let's just hope that if (if -- not when) something like that ever happens while we live here, I'll be able to keep my wits about me.

In the meantime, though, let's switch gears. All this talk about falling reminds me that fall has arrived in Brooklyn. It's fun to watch the seasons change in the city. I used to think that changing seasons weren't noticeable in cement-filled cities, but after living here for over a year, I have been proved wrong. Here are a few autumn shots taken around our neighborhood:



I was reading the other day that one of the best places for spectacular autumn vistas here in the city is on the 7th floor of Bergdorf Goodman overlooking the colorful foliage at the foot of Central Park. Maybe we'll make it up there sometime before the trees strip down in winter nakedness.

post-election hoo-haw

I voted. And I'm glad to see that so many others exercised their right as well. But I'm equally as glad that I did not have to stand in a two-hour-long line to do so. When I swung by the Lutheran church where my precinct's polling booth was set up, I had absolutely no line to wait in. I was in and out in three minutes.

Having been registered to vote in three different states, I have also voted three different ways (or four, if you count the absentee ballot I sent in while I was in school in Idaho). In Utah we used the punch-hole system. In Indiana it was all electronic (which, while cool, came with its own set of problems). In New York we use huge, ancient lever machines. You walk into the booth, push the lever all the way to the opposite side, flip switches next to your chosen candidates names to mark an "x" by them, then push the lever back to the side it originated on to lock in your vote. I find it interesting that a state (and city) as progressive as this one is still using this old-timey method (seriously, these machines look like they haven't been updated since the '50s), while states like Indiana, which are more rural than anything, have moved on up to electronic voting.

Anyhow, this election is over, and I'm thrilled that it is. I'm not incredibly thrilled at the results, but then I'm not sure I'd be thrilled if things turned out differently either. This electoral map, which I saw on another blog, pretty much sums up how I feel after two long years of campaigning. (It's pretty hilarious, don't you think?) We spent last night with our friends, Emily, Adam, and Baby Elizabeth, glued to election coverage. Did anyone else watch it with Brian Williams on NBC, and, if so, did you also get a kick out of how they displayed each state's electoral votes on a big map on the floor of the Rockefeller Center skating rink? I don't know, but I thought that was pretty cool. Despite the fact that things weren't looking good for the republicans, we still had a most enjoyable evening with our friends.

So we have a new president who, by simply being elected, has made history. His socialistic ideas make me nervous, but perhaps he'll prove me wrong with a good next four years. I'm curious, too, to see how Proposition 8 is doing in California. Apparently right now it's still too early to tell. I'm crossing my fingers, though, that if I can't have a president I can (as of yet) fully stand behind, at least let Prop 8 pass. [Update: Proposition 8 passed! Hooray!!]

election day

I have voted every November since I became of age in 2000. That means that, this year included, I have cast my vote in three presidential elections. But my most memorable Election Day was two years ago in Muncie, Indiana, and the reason it has stuck with me so vividly has nothing to do with the various municipal officers I voted for at the polls.

On Election Day two years ago, I learned that, after several months of trying, I was actually pregnant.

I was thrilled! Well, we were thrilled, but I'm pretty sure that Blake didn't exactly appreciate me pouncing on him in the wee hours of the morning after the home pregnancy test I took came out positive. I went around the block to my designated polling place that morning positively glowing. I couldn't have been happier.

Which made it difficult to get through work that day without spilling the beans to anyone and everyone who would listen to me. We had decided that, aside from telling our immediate families, we wanted to wait until I was safely through the first trimester before sharing the news with others (which, given the turmoil that occurred in the weeks that followed, turned out to be for the best). But I was positively itching to call my mom later that afternoon with the news that we were turning her into a grandmother.

As soon as I got home from work, I went straight to the phone and called home. My brother answered and told me that Mom wasn't home, that she was out running a few errands, but would be home in a few minutes to pick him up before heading over to the elementary school to vote. I asked him to have her call me before they left to do their civic duty.

Riley must have sensed a bit of urgency in my voice because about five minutes later, when Mom called back, she sounded worried.

"Are you all right?" she asked me.

"Yeah, yeah...I'm fine," I said, trying really, really hard to suppress the ball of excitement trying to scream its way out of my throat.

"Well, what's going on?" she asked.

I thought it would be fun to let the math I'd done earlier in the day come to my aid as I shared our happy announcement. Using one of those online calculators, I'd been able to determine that I'd be due in the middle of July -- the same time that our big family reunion was scheduled to be held. A short time prior to this, I'd told my mom that Blake and I weren't sure if we'd be able to make it to the reunion that year. Finances would be tight, and Blake's impending graduation and potential new job would only make a big summer trip all the more difficult to swing. She had told me not to give up all hope yet, and I told her we wouldn't. But suddenly a whole new element had been added into the equation.

"I just wanted to call and let you know that it doesn't look like we'll be able to make it to the reunion after all," I said.

Mom sounded crushed. "Why?"

"Well," I said, a smile spreading across my face, "because we're going to have a baby then instead."

Mom choked on her breath and started to cry. Riley, who was standing there next to her, anxious to know what we were talking about and wondering why the heck Mom was upset all of a sudden, started repeating, "What? What? Is this good news or bad news?"

Mom gave him a hearty thumbs up and grinned, I imagine, through her tears. She was going to be a grandma, Riley was going to be an uncle. And I was going to be a mother.

We called Blake's family shortly after my mom and I had finished our conversation, and while it was fun to inform them of our news by asking how they'd like to be grandparents/uncles/aunts, nothing will ever beat the rollercoaster of emotions I'd witnessed that day in my mother. It couldn't have played out better.

But speaking of playing out, it's time I go glue myself to the news to watch election coverage. I've done my civic duty by casting my vote and am eager to see the results. Have you voted?

1984

It would seem that bibliophilism is genetic. Either that, or Big Brother told him to read it.